Draco Malfoy and the Magnetic Portkey
by Sephrenia Whisp
Summary: Draco Malfoy finds a strange object that turns out to be a portkey. He doesn't have his wand or anyway of getting home that he knows of, and he's at the mercy of a Muggle girl . . . What's a boy to do? [This story is on hiatus]
1. Backyard Discovery

**TITLE:** Draco Malfoy and the Magnetic Portkey

**SPOILERS:** Everything Harry Potter, better safe than sorry

**RATING:** G

**SUMMARY:** Draco Malfoy finds a strange object that turns out to be a portkey. He doesn't have his wand or anyway of getting home that he knows of, and he's at the mercy of a Muggle girl . . . What's a boy to do?

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I don't really know what inspired me to right this, I guess I just _dreamed_ it up.

**Draco Malfoy and the Magnetic Portkey**

Sarah had snuck out into the backyard after her mom and brother had gone to bed. It was peaceful and calming out here. She planned to lay on the trampoline and look at the stars awhile, before she too went to bed.

The night air was fresh, smelling of dew and cut grass, tinged with a faintly juicy scent owing to the many fruit trees. The trees formed ominous black silhouettes against the backdrop of endless dark sky. Sarah inhaled deeply, savoring the subtle aroma which bore the essence of blooming flora, refreshing and darkly enticing at the same time.

Suddenly a flash of shimmering silver toward her right caught her eye. Sarah glanced sharply in that direction as a soft rustle confirmed her suspicions. There was a dark movement in the honeysuckle bushes and Sarah's hand closed into a fist as she cautiously approached.

As she stepped closer, the black clouds overhead slid apart, allowing a shaft of moonlight to shine forth, and Sarah's jaw promptly dropped as her eyes settled on the sight before her. A slender, pale guy with sleek silver blonde hair stood there.

"Who're you!"

The slender figure jerked around in response, and Sarah caught the briefest glint of silver as strangely familiar eyes turned to look at her, though they were hooded with an expression of utter surprise. Sarah's eyes widened as they flickered quickly on his face, and rendered her speechless for a moment as she gawked in undisguised astonishment.

Her voice was feeble with unfaded shock when the words finally found form on her lips, "Are you Tom Felton?"


	2. A Portkey

Draco Malfoy made his way past the other tables to the Gryffindor table. Gliding behind Hermione, he spat at her. "Dirty little mudblood scum." he whispered in her ear, disgust filling his face.

"Lay off her," Harry warned.

"Or what?"

"Or you might end up like you did on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the summer," Ron spoke as if explaining something terribly complicated to a little child.

"Weasel . . . back again? I'm surprised . . . ," Draco drawled.

"Why?" Ron snapped.

"Don't be a bloody idiot Weasley. It's not like your mum can afford to send you here. Look at your robes! I can see your bloody knickers. You might as well come in your nuddy-pants."

"LEMME AT HIM 'ARRY! LEMME AT HIM!" Ron burst out, diving at Draco.

"Ron, don't bother with a bloody arse like him. You can't do anything to him while McGonagall is around anyway." Harry pointed out, pulling Ron back to the table,

"Come on Ron," Hermione pleaded, "It's the first day back."

"You're right,"Ron sat back down, however grudgingly. "He's not worth it."

Draco sneered at them then headed for his own table.

That night, Draco was walking down to the Slytherin dungeons when something on the floor caught his eye. He went over and squatted so he could get a look at it. It was shaped like a U, mostly black with red tips. It looked harmless enough so he picked it up. He began to turn the object over in his hands when suddenly he felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet no longer touched the ground and his hand felt stuck to the object as he sped forward in a howl of wind and swirling color.

Just as quickly as it had started, he felt his feet slam onto the ground. He staggered as his surroundings came into focus. "Must have been a portkey," he swore.

He was outside; there were a lot of fruit trees; two large, strange objects; in one corner was a tree house in a giant eucalyptus. He was about to reach out and pick a ripe peach that looked very tasty when a loud rustle of dried twigs crunching underfoot made him freeze in mid-movement.

There was someone coming.


	3. Muggles and Wands

**Pranks Are So Siriusly Padfoot: Receiving your review gave me a really neat warm feeling. I've written lots of fanfiction over the years but never had the courage to post any of it. I finally got up the guts to post this one and see what other people thought of my writing and it was very encouraging getting you as a first review. I'm getting really gushy, but I really appreciate such a positive response. Thank you so much!**

**Sorry for being slow updating, every summerwe put onamusical in my area andI've been very busy with opening week. Hopefully I will have more time now that the show is a week in to it's run.

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Draco spun around, coming face to face with a young girl with a stunned expression in her grey-green eyes. Her mouth was slack and she stared at Draco in disbelief.

"Are you Tom Felton?"

"Who?" he sneered.

"I guess not," the girl said thoughtfully, "Well, you look like him."

He stared, taking it all in. This girl had on a rather improper teal nightgown for Hogwarts and her accent wasn't British . . . .

"Your accent, you're American? Who are you? What are you doing here?" Draco couldn't keep the bewilderment from his voice, almost matching the dumbstruck expression on the girl's face.

"You're the one with an accent," she scoffed, "This is my house, what are _you_ doing here?"

"I . . ."

"And what _are_ you wearing?"

Malfoy stared down at himself, a mixed look of dismay and incomprehension, then up at the girl again.

"Who are you?" Draco repeated, nonplussed and rarely, looking rather flustered.

"Sarah," she said simply, then looked at his robes again, "And I thought I was the only one who went around in costumes year round."

"I'm not wearing a costume!" he snapped.

"All right then. Just who are you?"

She couldn't wait to hear who this nutter was. A Tom Felton look-alike, breaking in to backyards, dressed as a wizard in September.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he stated proudly.

"_Right, _and I'm Hermione Granger," she said sarcastically.

"I am!" he snapped.

"If you say so," she agreed. _What a nut! _she thought. "So how did you get here, _Draco_?"

"Well I was at Hogwarts going down to the---"

"_Hogwarts?"_

"You have heard of it haven't you?"

"Oh yeah," she nodded and spoke sarcastically, "I've heard of it. Up there in Scotland, right?"

He missed her sarcasm completely. "And I found this thing," he held up the object.

"A _magnet_?"

"I guess so. It must have been a portkey 'cause the next minute I was here."

_Wow_, Sarah inwardly chuckled. _He's really into his character_. "So you like Harry Potter too then?"

He looked at her as if she were insane, "_Like him_? I can't stand him the pompous git!"

_Way too into his character._ "Well, I don't particularly like _him_. I mean the books."

"What books?"

"What do you mean 'what books?'? The ones JK wrote."

"Who's that?"

"Ok, being into your character is one thing, but your getting a little ridiculous," a note of annoyed anger found its way into Sarah's voice.

"Into what character? What _are_ you talking about," he spat, his tone menacing yet imperceptibly desperate.

"Well if you're the real Draco, prove it."

"_The real Draco_? Of course I'm the real Draco! I know I come from a prestigious family and all, but no one would impersonate me."

Sarah looked more annoyed and exasperated than ever.

"Well . . . I . . . ," he looked in the pockets of his robes for something of proof. "Damn, I don't have my wand," he muttered under his breath.

All the while Sarah watched him, completely unamused by his performance.

"Here something," he pulled out a piece of paper, laughing, "I bought it off Crevee for blackmail. Of course _he_ didn't realize that's why I wanted it.

He handed it to her. It was a photograph of what looked like Harry Potter in nothing but a bath towel, perhaps having just showered after a Quidditch match. But then Harry saw her and tried to hide on the edge of the picture. She shrieked and dropped the photograph.

"Hey!" Draco grabbed the photograph up while he glared at the girl before him. "What did you do that for?"

Sarah could only stare, her gaze widening in a mixture of disbelief and horror. _The photograph had moved._ _He was a wizard. His name was Draco . . . Draco Malfoy . . ._ Sarah was beginning to feel sick. _He had gotten here using a portkey. He was Harry Potter's arch-rival and enemy. He was a horribly mean boy who hated Muggles._ Sarah clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling the scream that threatened.

"Why did the photograph frighten you?" he asked haughtily.

"I've . . . I-I've n-never s-s-seen a moving picture be-bef-before," she stammered.

"Wouldn't that make you a Muggle then?" he asked menacingly.

"Ahh . . . .Uhh . . . ." she stammered, cringing as he stepped toward her intimidatingly.

She looked down at the ground as she awaited her fate. Suddenly, a thought came to her that calmed her immediately. _He didn't have his wand, so he couldn't hex her; he was in a foreign country, and most likely didn't have any Floo powder; so _he_ was at _her_ mercy . . . ._

"Hm, hmm," she chuckled openly.

"What?" he looked at her suspiciously.

"You don't have your wand," she said smugly.

He stopped in his tracks.

"You have no way of getting home, and _I'm_ the _only_ one that knows."

When she lifted her eyes slowly to meet Draco's, she found that the horror in them far surpassed what her own had been.

"You have no clue about Muggles, so you don't know of what I'm capable," she added.

The horror sparkled in Draco's shocked grey eyes, as they still unswervingly were fixated on Sarah. "W-what are you gonna do?"


	4. To Help or Not to Help?

**Notes: Oh man, I am so excited to be posting for this story again. Let me explain and apologize for the delay.**

**I started writing this literally years ago and it was finished. The whole story was done, it was just a matter of formatting it and updating it every so often. So then after a few weeks my computer started dying and so I bought a new one and started transferring my stuff over. Of course my old one completely died before I got my story out of it. I was totally devastated. ****But a friend I recently made who is more computer savvy than I somehow got my story out and here it is. Super duper YAY!!!! After this story being locked away for multiple years, I now have access to it. **

**Moral of the story: My stuff is now saved on two different computers and a flashdrive thingy.**

**So to anyone who was reading it back then and still wants to continue reading it, it's here finally! And to the three people who have reviewed, thanks so much for the positive words! I am so sorry for the delay, I blame much of it on my computer for being lame and take some responsibility for not having had a back up faster. Either way here it is, enjoy!**

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"I don't know, that depends on you. I could just call the police and let them take you off my hands," Sarah smiled wickedly, then spoke nuetrally, "But I've never met a wizard before. It could be interesting if you're pleasant, I might help you try to get home." 

Draco had looked mildly concerned about the police comment, but now he snorted, "You mean you want me to work with a Muggle? I'm a Pureblood! I don't need the help of a worthless Muggle."

Sarah bristled, but calmly replied, "Listen Malfoy, quit acting like a little child. You don't have a wand or Floo Powder and you don't know anything about California, so you're at a disadvantage. If you want to stay here for the rest of your life, by all means: BE DISAGREEABLE. But personally, I've never really liked your character, so I want you to get home as quickly as possible. I _certainly_ don't want a stuck up, snobby, selfish, and unlikable future dark wizard living in my backyard. If that means I help you get home, then SO BE IT."

He just stared at her astounded, as if that were the first time anyone had ever told him to his face what they truly thought of him. She stood there with her arms folded looking at him expectantly. He didn't say anything. What should he say? He looked down at his shoes for a good few minutes trying to process it all. She cleared her throat but he still didn't look up. "Fine!" she sighed.

Now he looked up. She was turning around and heading toward the house. "Wait!" he yelped. "Where are you going?"

"Inside, to get some sleep. Why stand here staring at you as you stare at your feet? It doesn't accomplish much."

"Wait, wait," he said softly and she stopped and turned back as he continued, "You're right though, I don't know how to get home. I _could_ use your help."

She smiled. "So . . . . We're gonna act cordial and try to get something done?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you came to your senses."

"Well then?"

"You're the wizard aren't you?"

"Well I have no clue even what really happened!"

"You said you picked up the magnet and it acted as a portkey?"

"If that's what this thing is," he shrugged.

"Let me see it."

He handed it to her. Sarah examined it closely. "Well, it _looks_ like an ordinary magnet. I don't know if things look any different when they have spells on them."

"Not usually," he agreed.

"Well . . . ." The night breeze picked up and flowed through her nightgown giving her a chill, she shuddered.

Draco noticed this and took off his robe. "Here," he handed it too her, "I have real clothes on."

"Thank you," she said uncertainly, putting it on. "Why do you care?" she asked curiously.

"Well, I figure you'll get more thinking done if your not shivering."

"Oh." _My, my. Is he really just concerned about getting home, or is he actually not quite the jerk he seems to be? Naw, let's go with the first one. Don't waste the empathy on him._ "Well, um . . what time was it about when you picked up the magnet?"

"About . . . ." he thought a moment, "Well . . . actually it would have been almost exactly nine."

"I suppose it would be too simple for it to work again at ten?"

"Probably," he sighed.

"Let's go sit on the trampoline, my feet are cold in the wet grass."

"Sounds good," he nodded. "What's a trampoline?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and muttered aggravatedly under her breath what sounded like 'Purebloods'. "That, over there," she pointed at what looked like a monstrous round table.

"Ok."

He watched as she went over and leapt onto it, it dipped down under her weight then pushed her up. He walked over and looked at it doubtfully. The edges reached just above his waist, but it dipped deeply in the middle where Sarah sat. "Can it bear both of our weight?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yeah," she nodded, crawling over to the edge and standing up.

"But it's dipping," he looked at it nervously.

"It's s'posed to do that so you can jump. It's like elastic."

"If you're sure it's safe . . ."

"Yeah, come on," she leaned down to him, her hand outstretched.

He took it and she pulled as he climbed on. He looked a little jittery as he staggered to the middle. "Wow," he jumped a little, grinning, "This is kinda . . ."

But Sarah jumped hard suddenly and he fell down on his back. She erupted in giggles at his shocked face. "Sorry 'bout that," she sat beside him looking concerned, "I shouldn't have jumped so . . ."

Her eyes were small but full of warmth, tinted a calming grey-green, almond shaped, and framed with dark, thick lashes. He realized, with a start, that she was kind of pretty. Definitely better than Pansy.

They were silent for what seemed like hours, staring at each other.

"Yeah well, it's Ok for a Muggle thing," Draco announced suddenly, sitting up.

"Yeah, we should try and figure something out," Sarah brushed herself off as though nothing had happened.

"What do _you_ think?" he asked professionally.

"It would be too simple for it to take you back at ten, but perhaps midnight."

"Sounds reasonable," he nodded.

"But then again, it could go off at any given time. Or it could not go off at all. _Then_ I'll have to find you a plane to the East Coast and then to Scotland as cheaply as I can. I'm not exactly made of money," she paused thinking, "But _you_ are, I don't suppose you know of a place we can trade Galleons for cash?"

"I've never had a reason to before, so I wouldn't have a clue," he shook his head.

"Right, so our best bet is for you to keep a hold on it and hope it takes you back some time tonight."

"Ok, I'll keep it in hand and hope something happens. Check. Now we just have to wait for something to happen. What time is it?"

Sarah squinted at her watch. "Nine forty-six."

"Well, we might be here a while," Draco said sarcastically.

"What should we do until then?"

"We could visit, chat," Draco suggested, then looked a little surprised that he had actually said such a thing.

She looked up at him in shook, "What'd you say?"


End file.
